Can You Imagine?
by LethoBion
Summary: Marche, Ritz, Mewt, Doned and Cid are living happily in St. Ivalice. But Everything Changes as Lente, a viera from Ezel's alliance comes and leads them back to a slowly falling Ivalice..... MarchexRitz, FFXII crossover at the end. I don't own FFTA.
1. Ivalice

Moss covered the walls and floor. The air was damp and cold, bars of steel separated the halls from the chambers. Guards stood at every cell, but one particular prison was heavily guarded.

A single bunk lay dusty upon a corner of the room. The chamber was dark, only lighted by the dim torches of the hallways. Dust and mold covered the floors. It was a typical kind of clan prison.

The only thing that wasn't typical was the prisoner in that special cell. The nu-mou was curled up in the blankets, wryly lamenting his fate, chuckling to himself.

The cell bars creaked as a bangaa entered. The nu-mou sat up, smiling serenely.

"You've been locked up here for ten dayss now, Ezel Berbier. What have you got to ssay?" The bangaa was evidently here to interrogate this nu-mou called Ezel.

"Well, the cell's a bit drafty, my bunk should be a bit thicker, I do say."

"Sstop fooling around, Berbier, and tell me what your alliance is doing!"

The bangaa towered over Ezel.

"Oh, and this place smells filthy."

The bangaa snarled, grabbing Ezel by the collar of his tattered purple robes, lifting the nu-mou into the air,

"After ten dayss of keeping you prisssoner, iss that all I get?" He slammed Ezel against the moldy walls. "'Thiss plasse ssmells filthy?!'"

"Be careful with the head, Gaa'mont. I'm a sensitive man, you know," Ezel croaked, even after the pain that shot through his back.

Gaa'mont roared on frusteration, throwing Ezel to the ground. He stormed out of the cell, not before he spat on Ezel. After hissing something to the guards, he shot a hostile look to the nu-mou on the ground be fore walking away, muttering curses. Ezel struggled himself up, and dusted his robes, smiling with distaste.

"And I thought I outsmarted Brint and Galmia…."

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"Anything?" The Viera asked as Gaa'mont walked into the room, arms crossed. He stood by the door, looking at her.

"If he were not our enemy, I would praisse him for hiss loyalty."

"Unfortunately, he is. That gives us reason to kill him."

Gaa'mont and the Viera turned their heads to face an outline of a human lurking in the shadows.

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"Zout!!!"

Pierre slammed his fists on the table, followed by spitting out a stream of curses in French. (Some really offensive ones, judging by his brother, Devange's expression) A few torches illuminated the meeting room, and a round table sat in the middle. Xia sat at it, with a grave expression on her face. The viera could not understand what Pierre was saying, but got the intention of those words. Devange set down his guns and approached the storming Pierre.

"Whoa, calm down, Pierre, calm down." Pierre glared at Devange.

"How can I calm down when our leader is imprisoned by those cursed terrorists, and we are sitting here, able to do nothing but brace ourselves for an attack?!"

He snarled once more, and punched the wall, causing a few splinters to arise on the wooden barrier. Devange looked surprised once more, and backed away. Pierre unsheathed his katana and sliced a chair into half, not being able to satisfy his anger.

"We seem to be waiting for the greatest assault, and Lente's been blasted off to god knows where-"

"Lente is in another world, recruiting the prophecy's warriors." Xia was standing up, glaring at Pierre. The ninja glared back. For a second he looked like he was going to point his katana at the fencer. He stormed out of the room, not looking back. Fifty-million expert-classed manpower, marching towards Benervia…….

All the Alliance has is fifty-thousand members, only one-third of them being white mages or healers. All of them stationed at Benervia palace, waiting for the Viera leader, Lente.

Benervia palace did not give any benefits. It was the worst place to defend, worst place to hide, and the worst place to be supplied. Yet the base of the Alliance was here. With so little force in their hands, symbolism and trust was all they had. Hope counts, if you consider the less realistic ones.

It wasn't a war. 15years after royalty's absence, and corruption had sprung out from everywhere. The Judicial system was falling, yes, but this was the first open assault, not counting amateur terrorizing and theft. They still attended to social meetings, had pleasant chats with their enemies, and tried to damage dignity and pry out information all the way. Brute force, clan wars, that age was over. Social power, trickery, gambling, and the trust of little-knowing civilians were needed now.

Now, the greatest problem faced the alliance.

Will they survive this?

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Xia strapped her Minerva plate on over her purple alliance uniform. She pierced in the two earrings of the viera, and brandished her Femme Fatale. She ran her fingers over the supple, cimson blade.

"Isn't that supposed to be the Legendary Warrior's?"

Devange stood by the door, with a raised eyebrow. Xia smiled.

"I'm in charge of it until she comes, or until I die."

"Everybody hopes we'll survive this. Don't make jokes about that. You mind offend you-know-who."

"Gaa'seth just might not care."

Xia walked to Devange, stopping in front of him. Devange raised an eyebrow. Xia put an arm around him neck and pulled his lips to hers. Devange raised his other eyebrow. After some awkward seconds, Xia pulled away softly.

"To die a lip virgin, I will not."

She opened the door and stepped out.

"Fight well, cowboy."

After that, Xia left Devange dumbstruck and frozen.

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The Zanmato slashed through countless enemies. Another white mage down……. Pierre eyed the situation as his Masamune and Zanmato cut through armor and flesh. The majority of the alliance's white mages have fallen….

"Argh!"

Something knocked over Pierre as he plummeted to the ground. He sharply turned his head only to see a black light, reversing everything in the background. He had seen this before.

It was a seam.

It was Lente.

She was here.

_Nice time to open a seam._

"Gaa'seth!! Gather some gadgets we need to build a fort!!!"

Pierre called to the Bangaa as he stood up. He did not see the fighter run up behind his back.

The kwigon blade cut through his stomach.

"Ultima Shear!!!"

The fighter was in a second, leaving Pierre clutching his abdomen. He kneeled on one knee a the seam opened into a portal. He saw chocobos running toward it.

"If I survive this, Lente, I will make sure you're in the slammers."

With that, the young man collapsed, picturing the saddened face of a viera.


	2. Have you ever wanted to go back?

[Swords clanged, Bullets and arrows flew everywhere. Marche Ran through the sea of metal, trying to find Ritz.

[Words Ritz once said sprang to his head.

[He dodged a bullet by inches.

[There's another reason I want to stay in this world.

[A juggler's knife pierced his right shoulder.

[Back in that world, there's laws about going to school, and blah, blah

[Marche fell to the ground, helpless……

[But then at school, they never teach you how to say goodbye.

[Ritz, where are you?

[he reached towards something, he could not see, reaching for something he desperately needed.

[Don't die

[A tear rolled down his cheeks.

[Please, Ritz….

[I don't know how to say goodbye……..

"What time is it?"

A brown-haired woman stared at the clock in bed, evidently horrified. Then she hurriedly dressed and half-ran down the stairs, muttering to herself.

"Doned!! I'm sorry, I forgot to set my alarm-"

The scene before her eyes horrified her more than she already was, but (some could say) in a good way.

"Hi, Mom."

A boy with blonde hair was smiling brilliantly at her, cooking eggs. His brother was at the table, enjoying the breakfast the blonde boy made him. Doned looked up and smiled (shamelessly, with bacon between his teeth) at his mother, then went back to his meal.

"Marche! But… how-, " the woman started.

"I've given Doned his usual medication, and I've packed my lunch. Oh, the school bus will arrive in a moment, so can you clean up for me?" Marche smiled.

Marche left after kissing his mother on the cheek. She was left to stand there, wondering what just happened. Marche ran out into the snow, hoping he would get to the bus stop in time. The snow was steep. It reminded him of yesterday.

Marche was fast, even through the snow. He jumped onto the closing doors of the school bus, barely making it. The children on the bus laughed. Marche laughed with them, high-fiving some of the kids. He went to the back of the bus, looking for his friends. He sat down next to a white-haired girl.

"Hey Ritz!"

"Hi Marche."

Ritz shoved some books into her bag. Marche laughed_. Homework_, he thought, _Ritz's worst enemy_.

"Where's Mewt?" Marche asked, looking around.

"Judgemaster, I mean, Cid, made a new game, He's testing it now, and we're invited after school." Ritz replied. "Oh, he told me to ask you why you didn't pick up the phone."

Marche smiled sheepishly. "The phone line got cut off. It snows too much here".

Ritz rolled her eyes. "You need to get a cell phone."

"We didn't need phones in Ivalice…"

They both laughed. Everyday, the three were together, though sometimes only in heart. Most people would (and they are correct) think that it takes some kind of miracle to bond together these children so tightly. Miracle… Tell me about it.

A bond so tight…… that the essence of love sprang into existence.

-Three years later-

"Come on Marche; let's go to Square Enix HQ!" Ritz tugged on Marche's arm as he closed his locker.

"Oops. I have a tournament today."

Ritz rolled her eyes. She took out her cell phone and dialed.

"I'll call Mewt, He's dying to see you do sports."

_You and your swords_, Ritz thought.

Marche swung his weapon, countering the opponent's attacks. In mere seconds, the opponent was utterly defeated, disarmed and on the ground. Ritz and Mewt cheered. Marche sheathed his two wooden swords and lent a hand to his opponent. Guinness smacked it away, annoyed. He shoved Marche on the shoulder as he walked by.

"Good job, Marche!" Ritz cheered as she ran towards him with Mewt.

"Yeah, that was awesome!" Mewt piped in.

Mewt ruffled his hair up and Ritz pounded him on the back. Marche laughed. To think he was bad at sports back then……

"I hope I do well on the finals tomorrow," Marche said.

The three walked back to Marche's house. Doned welcomed them warmly, and the four children had some hot chocolate in Marche's room. Mewt talked about the new game, while Ritz and Doned listened. Marche headed downstairs for some snacks. He smiled at his mother as he opened the cabinet.

"You've grown up, Marche."

"Really? I feel the same."

His mother smiled. "It's been one year since I saw you in the kitchen, making breakfast for _me_. You've grown stronger, physically and mentally. Doned is boasting about you in the hospital. I'm proud of you too."

Marche froze. That was the first time he heard that from his mother since Doned first went to the hospital. His throat was dry, and he chokes on his words. He turned toward the stairs with the snacks.

"Thanks, mom."

His mother smiled as he ran up the stairs.

"Why the smile?" Ritz asked as He came back.

"Oh... nothing, really."

-At Square Enix HQ-

"We need to put in graphic scenes for the plot, but we don't have the right simulation actors," Cid explained as the four children listened, "The character is a 16-year old boy and his friend, and we need someone who's young and good with the sword."

Marche and Ritz smiled, and Mewt chuckled. Cid smiled too. No one but Marche would be able to pull sword fighting stunts off.

"Does that mean you're in?"

"Yup.It will be fun."

Marche stretched. This will be fun.

"Break! Good job, everyone!" Cid called through the microphones. Mewt left the room, to get something from the car.

Marche took off the simulation suit and sighed, plopping down onto a chair. Ritz came and sat beside him. They both smiled.

"It's been a while since you got to say leader-like things."

Ritz handed Marche a towel. His hair was wet from the magnet fluids. An awkward silence broke the laughter. They sat in silence.

"Have you ever wanted to go back?"

"Yeah. A lot. Even now, I want to see Shara."

They both looked downwards. Ivalice seemed like a dream, though they would never forget it. Magic, sword fighting…… It would be the dream of one's life. Only it wasn't a dream. Made from desire and figments, the world called Ivalice went too far to be called a dream. It was Paradise, one they rightfully left behind.

"And yet here we are. I'll soon become a martial arts celebrity, you'll be enrolled in a private law school, and Mewt's jumped a year and is in Medical school."

"Things change. I wish I could see the fluffy ears of vieras again."

They both chuckled.

"Guys! Guess who I saw!!" Mewt shouted as he walked into the recording chamber. Everybody faced him, looking surprised. All the Enix staff looked puzzled. Mewt was with a girl, about the same age as Ritz, with tanned skin and white hair. The girl was wearing a hat, and there were two mysterious brown streaks in her ponytail. When the girl saw Cid, she gasped.

"Who is she?" Ritz asked.

"She's a member of Ezel Berbier's alliance."

Cid, Doned, Ritz and Marche understood with great surprise. The girl, no, viera, was from Ivalice.


	3. Regrets

**Chapter 3: Regrets**

"I made some quick excuses, but this is really awkward." Cid said, as he closed the door to his house.

A warm fire was kindling at the end of the room. There was a beige sofa and armchair, with a furry bearskin rug lying in front of it.

Marche sighed. Mewt trembled with excitement. Ritz bit her lip. Doned nervously tapped his wheels. They all sat on the rug, waiting for the viera to speak. Cid broke the silence before her.

"Before we get into anything else, how did you know where to find us?"

The viera took off her hat. The two brown streaks, which were her ears, sprang up into their usual positions. The viera sighed.

"Everyone who has been touched by the Gran Grimore has a mark, which can only be felt by fellow Ivalicians. I followed the presence of Prince Mewt to come here."

"But why?" Doned asked.

"Ivalice is in need of you, Prince Mewt, and Judgemaster Cid. The palace is becoming more corrupt, outlaws from jagds are invading cities, and worst of all……" The Viera's voice trailed away. Everyone gulped. What happened since they left?

"Ivalice… She…..the law system is broken. Without any monarch or leader to maintain, the world is falling apart. We need a King, Prince Mewt! We need a line, a generation to rule and protect!" The viera broke into sobs. Everyone was startled. Even after their adventure in Ivalice, they had never seen a viera in despair.

"Calm down. What's your name?" Mewt asked, startled by the breakdown.

"It is Lente."

Lente looked up into Mewt's eyes.

"Well, Lente," said Cid, "I am surprised enough that you managed to get into this world, but going back isn't possible for us."

Lente smiled. This was expected. She was elected to go and retrieve these people because it was expected that they needed persuading.

"When Ivalice first came into existence, she already had her history, based on the wishes of the Prince. But when Marche Radiuju forced his way back to this world, the two realms were divided, one being a copy of the other no longer. The Gran Grimore was destroyed, ending Ivalice's dependence on desire.

"But even when the worlds were separated, they maintained sisterhood. A permanent portal between the two was created, and thus a bond stronger than any that existed was born."

"It took all of the alliance years to find that portal. Some died during the quest." Lente's eyes filled with sorrow. "My sister was one of them….." Lente shook her head.

"But even when the portal was found, no one dared to go through. I, guardian of the Golmore Jungle, keeper for the home of the viera, called them cowards. And I walked through the portal, to end this pointless destruction."

They all listened intently. Even though they were not aware of it, the knight, the fencer, the prince, the streetcat, and the judgmaster knew and understood; Ivalice was calling to them.

Lente continued.

"My Prince, Many have despaired and lost hope. A dark age has been predicted when the nu-mou first came to Ivalice. Many think that this prophecy has come true, and are begging to the gods. They have lost hope. A savior is needed."

"But why us?" asked Marche.

"That prophecy the people believe, it mentions five heroes. A brave knight, true to his heart, a graceful warrior, blessed by the moons, a wise prince, humble and gallant of heart, a sly streetar, with honesty and wit, and a strong Judgemaster, head on and upholds justice," Lente sat in a more comfortable posture, her anxiety calming down. By her expression at this point, one could call her that of royalty. "I am here to bring hope back to Ivalice."

Everyone agreed in their minds, but Ritz frowned. "How do you know that prediction refers to us?" Ritz, who always had lower self-esteem than she appeared to, was not confident within this idea. "It easily could have been other people."

Lente frowned. "I do not see importance in that. I do not even believe the prophecy is true. What matters is that the citizens of Ivalice believe it, and hope will only be restored when they have the will to fight. The outcome of the resistance would only be futile if people did not believe it would work. Importance, the actual meaning lacks.

"It is no longer a fight of clans and swords; it is a fight of social power and of control! Secrets, deceiving and even treachery must be performed to save Ivalice."

All of them grew silent. Lente waited. To go back to a place they left behind, was…painful. It was the world of their dreams, A paradise. They left it behind, choosing reality and finding a way through their problems. The only reason they were able to heal from it was because they knew they could not go back. A lost dream, they thought, but here it is, pleading for them. She respected that. Finally, Mewt broke the silence.

"What are we waiting for!!? Ivalice needs us!"

Marche and Ritz only glanced at him. Doned rolled toward Mewt. Cid grasped his shoulders.

"Yes. Right now, we need to return. During our absence, the world of, no, our world, Ivalice, has been plunged into chaos," Cid said.

"Yeah! I can't stay here knowing that people need me." Doned turned his wheelchair towards Ritz and Marche.

The two hesitated. Mewt, Cid and Doned fully accepted the fact that two worlds can be appreciated at the same time.

"I don't know….. Even though it is Ivalice, I can't leave my family behind….." Ritz shifted uncomfortably.

"You will be able to come back. As one world can exist without her sister, one can always drift between." Lente smiled assuringly. Ritz hesitated, but smiled too. She stood up.

"I'm going. Shara might need my help again."

Everyone but Marche was standing up. Marche trembled. He wanted to go so badly. But why wouldn't he move.

"Marche?"

"Let's go."

"Ivalice needs us."

"Yeah, you can't just leave it behind! It's as real as our world now! Lente explained!"

"I can't!!! I just can't!!"

Everybody stared. It _was _Marche who brought back the real world, but he liked Ivalice too. Marche stood up, and faced Mewt.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go. My mom's coming late today, and Doned needs his medication. Let's go, Doned."

Marche rolled Doned with him, and softly thanking Cid, he shut the door to Cid's house and walked away. Doned frowned as the door was closed. Ritz tried to go after him, but surprisingly, Lente stopped her.

"Let him be. He loves Ivalice more than anyone else, but he is afraid."

Everyone hung their limbs and looked downwards. They must understand. Marche could not bear the thought of Ivalice.

-Night, Marche's house.-

The back door creaked as Marche stepped out. His backyard was covered in snow. The white ground crunched as Marche made his way to the bench. It was a new moon. No silvery glow hung in the black sky. Marche shivered a bit. He remembered the day he came back. It was a full moon, and Marche sat here, in this very spot, regretting his decision and trying to get over it. He sighed. What was Ivalice to him?

Marche did not hear the sound of several figures entering his house. Lente slipped a piece of paper on the kitchen table, and lead the others to the back yard. Her footsteps were close to inaudible. The back door creaked once again as Lente, Doned, Ritz, Mewt and Cid entered the backyard.

"How did you-?" Marche inquired. He jumped up from the bench, facing them. Lente and the others moved closer.

"No matter. We must go to Ivalice, and fast. I have received a report that Benervia palace is under attack."

"I said I can't go!"

Everything was so sudden. The viera, Ivalice's fall, the prophecy, everything. He can't go back, he can't go back…. He braced himself from all the memories, trying to accept them. It took him three years, and here the dream was, in front of him, tugging on his hand. It caught Marche off guard. Now he was struggling to pull back. Marche kneeled in the snow.

"It's not like I don't want to go!" He looked up at them "I'm afraid that I might never want to come back anymore….

"All this time I've only been able to bear it because I knew I can't go back! I hated the choice I made, I regretted it several times and I wanted to go back so badly….. But why did you have to come up to me and say that I can go back!! I can't leave Mom; I can't leave this life….. No matter how much I want to I can't leave! I'm afraid I might not have the guts to come back anymore!!!"

Lente sighed. She knelt down in front of Marche and put her hands on his shoulders.

"You are the one who loved Ivalice the most. This is only natural." Lente smiled. Marche looked into her eyes. "Just know that until now, you have been making the right choices, no matter how much you hated it. Trust yourself to make the right decision. The future is for the future you to concern. Right now, the present is what you should think of, Marche Radiuju."

A tear rolled off Marche's cheeks. He stood up. Ritz and Mewt knew the expression on Marche's face. Determined, head on and immovable. They had once despised it and admired it.

"Open the portal."

"Gladly, brave knight." Lente smirked.

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Wow…..

I rushed through the beginning, sorry.

I'm not a modern-world-type person, so….

Anyways, please R&R

And if you're not going to go on specifics to how I should improve and which parts you hated,

I'm going to yawn at flames.


	4. Torrents of Will

**Chapter 4: Torrents of Will**

Lente, Marche, Ritz, Mewt, Doned and Cid trudged through the darkness of the seam. It has been an hour since Lente opened the portal. Silence was kept unbroken within the walls of nothingness, at least, until Lente sighed and stopped walking.

"Hail the hero Gaol, who defeated the Wyrm of Golmore."

Everybody stared at Lente. Why was she saying this? Marche was about to say something when all of them heard the shuffling of feet. A voice called out from the darkness.

"And cherish the mogknight Lini, who delivered the finishing touch, kupo."

All of them jumped. Who said this? Was it Lente's comrades or enemies?

Marche didn't have time to think.

Something whooshed from behind him. By reflex from his training, Marche grabbed the thing that lurked behind him and pinned it to the ground. He heard many thuds, groans and a shout from Ritz. So, they got something too. A torch lighted up as Marche squinted. He was holding a bangaa to the ground by his neck. Ritz was in a ready position to choke a viera, Mewt was sitting on a knocked out she-moogle, Doned was dangling on a human, and Cid had a man at his twisted wrist. Lente was staring at a moogle on a chocobo, who was watching Marche's group solemnly. Marche squinted at the moogle. There was something familiar about him, mysteriously, as if a memory from a dream. The moogle looked at Marche from the corner of his eyes. Something meaningful, friendly, some kind of expectation passed through the gaze before the moogle broke away.

"Do they meet your requirements?" Lente asked the moogle.

"They are warriors, indeed, kupo. One was …." The moogle sighed. "You chose a kupo time to take them here."

Lente frowned. "Your chocobos are wounded."

"We were in a middle of a battle with some terrorists, kupo. Apparently, they want Benervia palace burned to the ground."

Lente approached a chocobo and swung onto it. "Don't you have white mages?"

"All . The're really know how to fight, kupo." The moogle shook his head.

A grunt and moan echoed in the dim light.

"Mind letting usss go?" The bangaa he was holding groaned. Marche stared for a minute then let him go, apologizing. He heard more sighs of relief. All of them were freed.

"No time for grudges. All of you, on chocobos. Brace yourselves for battle, kupo."

The moogle seemed to be the leader of the group. All of the warriors mounted on chocobos. As Marche strapped his legs to the leather seat, he noticed that he was wearing a fine, linen shirt with leather pants, not as baggy as his usual soldier shorts and longer. He had a white cape, slightly draped more to the right side, meeting at this left shoulder with a jeweled brooch. A fine leather belt was hung loosely at his hip, with a sheath but no sword.

The others noticed this too. Ritz was clad in a silken sleeveless top, with a green skirt with a rip down the left side. Her legs were protected with light silvril plates, and her boots were true tiger leather. Mewt was wearing a lordly cape, with armor fit for a judge. Doned had a tattered, linen shit with bandages holding some places to his skin. He was wearing thief armlets, with shorts and tight boots. And Cid was Wearing his Judgemaster's armor, finer than ever.

The chocobos sprinted through the darkness, slightly limping but speedily. After what seemed like hours, the group finally saw light, and heard war. The portal opening was right behind a sloppily built fort. Lente's group dismounted from their chocobos as they stepped through the portal's borders. About seven alliance members was there, covering the fort and supporting the chocobos. The she-moogle was laid on the ground.

"Let me see her," Mewt said. He kneeled in front of the moogle and started examining her eyes.

When the soldiers of the alliance saw Mewt and Cid, they saluted and bowed, shouting greetings. cid waved his hand in a passive way.

"No time for formalities. How many casualties are there?" Cid's eyes were shining with the authority he once had, three years ago.

"All of our white mages are down, and most of the fighters and soldiers have been heavily wounded, sir!" A young viera replied.

"We'll need some ninjas dispatched to pass phoenix downs around-"

"Watch out!!!!!" Mewt screamed.

The wooden fort was smashed by the cannon from the terrorists. Everyone flew into different directions from the explosion, but no one was seriously hurt. Marche had to fist-fight with a fighter that pounced upon him as soon as he was in sight.

Doned was face-down in the battle field. He had to defend himself, but how? He half opened one eye. Something was gleaming in front of his eye. A swordbreaker!! He peered around his surroundings to make sure no one was targeting him. Coast was clear. Doned grabbed the swordbreaker and rushed to hide behind an abandoned fort. A bullet glanced his ear as he did so, but he ignored it. Gripping the holey dagger, he absorbed his surroundings. Ritz and Cid had found a weapon, like him, and was fighting. Mewt was healing the wounded. But Marche… Where was Marche?

Doned heard a shout from his left. Marche was fighting a fighter, bare-handed! Doned was outraged at his brother's stupidity. He scanned the surroundings for an unaware terrorist. He spotted a paladin to his south, talking to a gunner, holding a savethequeen loosely by his side. Doned sneaked up on the pladin, and using the semi-hole on the edge of his dagger, he hooked the greatsword away right under the paladin's nose. Doned ran back to his previous hiding place before the terrorists could say 'sword.'

"Marche, Catch!!"

Doned ran to the place Marche was brawling, and flung the greatsword towards him. Marche glanced at the flying sword, and then sidestepped the fighter's jab. He grabbed the savethequeen as its blade passed his face. Marche the fighter, and then set out to find Ritz.

As Lente had said, whether Marche was competent or not didn't matter. The sight of the golden knight, striking down enemies as he stormed through the war struck terror into the hearts of the terrorists before they even knew Marche. All they had to know was that the alliance had recruited the warriors of the prophecy, and that they were here to vanquish them. Before even facing Marche, most of the attackers fled, trying to save their own arses. A flaming white warrior, a golden knight, the fierce judge, it all was enough to send anyone running. No one knew about what was going on, who the fighters were, but all they knew was that they were going to lose, and that was what made them lose.

Soon, A dozen of the attackers were imprisoned, and the battle was over. White mages and Mewt ran around the battlefield, saving everyone they can. Many laughed, and many cried. All of them were escorted into the palace to recover, both physically and mentally. Only Marche, Ritz, Mewt, Cid, Doned and Lente remained outside.

They looked at the corpses and arms, lying on the ground, lifeless.

"This is horrible…….," Mewt sighed.

"This pointless war, this destructive chaos… is the reason Ivalice needs you."

They all looked at Lente. She stood infront of them, and kneeled.

"I plead you to rule Ivalice, watch over her, and protect her."

"We already have accepted that, Lente. Get up."

Mewt tugged on Lente's sleeve. She didn't budge.

"Then Prince Mewt, do you accept to become emperor of Ivalice, and rule it rightfully for years to come?" Lente looked up at Mewt.

Mewt hesitated. Emperor? He wasn't worthy. He was only fit for a prince. He was pampered, and he enforced laws for his entertainment when he was a prince.

"I am not worthy, Lente. It was me who made the people of Ivalice suffer from strict laws."

"By saying so, you have proven that you have changed from then, from a vain prince to a true monarch. A fitting ruler would not have said they are worthy, for if they did they would be not."

Mewt inhaled sharply. Was Lente serious? Without giving him the chance to say anything, Lente turned her head to Marche and Ritz.

"And do you, Marche Radiuju, Ritz Malheur, accept to become Ivalice's vassals, and protect those whom the monarch could not?"

Marche and Ritz looked at each other. Was this the right thing? Marche looked into Ritz's eyes. The two emeralds sparkled. Marche smiled, and so did Ritz. Understanding passed through their locked gazes.

"We will pledge our honor to the good of Ivalice," Marche said, using the formalities he learned 3 years ago. Ritz nodded.

"And do you, Judgemaster and Doned Raduiju, swear to uphold justice, and only harm for the greater good?"

Doned smiled widely, and Cid grinned in a noble way.

"I swear!" Doned shouted.

"And so do I."

Lente stood up. She smiled in her half-smirking, half-sad way.

The sky started to cry. Huge droplets of cloud tears rained upon the group. They were silent for a while, until Cid suggested going in. Lente looked like she just remembered something, and hurried them in.

The royal hall was packed with people and noise. The huge table was removed, so about three hundred people would fit. A stage had been set up at the northern end of the hall. Some of the alliance members they saw earlier were on it, discussing something. When one of them saw Lente, he smiled and waved, but a ninja beside him frowned. A viera sighed and walked toward the group, which was walking towards the stage. Nobody noticed their presences.

"Late, you are, Lente." She said in an accent as she approached. The seven figures stopped as they met.

"Sorry, Xia. We had and unofficial cornation."

"Well, you bloody pissed off Pierre."

Lente groaned. The newcomers just stared, wondering what to say. Xia noticed them. She gave them a lopsided grin. She was wearing a sleeveless tunic with a thin golden band around her waist. The band hosted a silvril rapier.

"So, you are the prophecy's heros?" She inquired. Marche and the others only nodded.

"This is Xia, our chief fencer." Lente introduced them. Marches group murmured some greetings.

Xia smiled, saying nothing. She led the group to the stage, smirking all the way. When they got onto the slab of metal, The Pierre the ninja's face grew red, and Lente sighed once more.

"En retard, _Lente_," He snarled, as if even saying her name disgusted him. Marche received an explosion of hostility in the form of a glance.

"Adoucir a bit, Pierre!" The man who waved at Lente slapped Pierre's back and laughed. Pierre glared at him for a moment, but softened, like he was told to. Marche noticed they had the same light, echoing voice, though very different in tone.

"These are the twins, Devange and Pierre Lasaille. " Lente introduced them once again. "And this is Marche and Doned Radujui, Ritz Malheur, Prince Mewt, and Judgemaster Cid Randell."

"Pleasure to meet you; I'm the chief emissionary here. And my brother here is the head scout."

Once again, Marche's group shared their greetings. Devange noticed that Marche was very uncomfortable with these acquaintances. He smiled, and winked encouragingly at Marche. When he saw this, he eased a bit.

"Lente, sso good to ssee you!"

A bangaa, the mysterious moogle, and a nu-mou climbed onto the stage. Everybody greeted them and Marche's group was introduced once more. The bangaa shook hands with Marche vigorously, saying that he couldn't wait until he had the honor to spar him. The moogle looked at Marche meaningfully. Marche frowned. The moogle was mysterious yet familiar. It bugged Marche. Where did he see him?

"Lente, It's time." Xia tapped her shoulder.

Lente walked downstage and shouted.

"People of the alliance! Could I be honored with your attention, please!"

The hall grew quiet.

"I, Lente, daughter and guardian of the Golmore, representative of the Viera, grieve your losses with you and laugh your cheers alike."

Marche was uncomfortable with all these people glancing at him and Lente back and forth.

"The cheers will be well celebrated, and the losses will not be in vain. The sufferings from the greatest assault we have faced will not be wasted; for the prophecy of light has been fulfilled."

Gasps echoed within the hall. Everyone of the alliance stared at the newcomers with wide-eyes and new-born fear and hope.

"The golden Knight, The silver Warrior, the gallant Prince, the honest Thief, and the Judgemaster have come, as the saviors of Ivalice!"

Shouts and cheers rang through the hall at the last word. Lente stepped back and the Bangaa took her place.

"I, Ga'sseth, Chief of the Eluutss and Sson of the Hero, Ga'carl, repressentative of the bangaa, honor all thosse who have fought to thiss day, parted or not."

The hall was quiet once more.

"Until now, we have brawled with the cruel reality. We did it believing only one thing; the prophessy of Light. It hass finally been fulfilled!!"

More cheers arose at the bangaa's words, and died down as the nu-mou stepped up.

"_A dark age will soon siege upon Ivalice. But fear not; on the day of light, Saviors will appear to comfort Ivalice and protect her._"

"Those were the word spoken by a dying prophet, only a few moons before this war commenced."

"I, Sololetho, the Greater Thinker and representative of the nu-mou, declare this; The day of light has come, and it is today!!!"

Cheers filled the hall and subsided as the Twins took the stage.

"I, Devange, and my brother, Pierre, The Red sniper and the Blue Killer, representative of the Humes, greet all the sorrows and cheers with hope."

"For we have been clinging to hope for fifteen years, and hope has finally favored us." Pierre said, in a much softer but commanding voice.

They said in unison, "For hope has sent us warriors of itself!"

Cheers arose and fell as the mysterious moogle took their attention. Marche watched him cautiously. The moogle threw back it's hood and watched the crowd with solemn, hardy eyes. Then Marche knew who it was. he stared in horror of how the moogle had changed. It was only a few years since he left. How could….

How could Montblanc change like this?


	5. A Hell of a Storm

Marche stared in horror. How could the cheery, light-hearted and dependable moogle change like this? Montblanc looked upon the crowd with solemn, hardy eyes. Marche subconsciously took a step forward, towards his friend-no-longer-friend, but Gaa'seth grabbed his shoulder.

"You can ssay hello later, after the alliansse coronation."

"Marche blinked. "Coronation? What, now?"

The bangaa nodded.

"Isn't it a bit sudden? I mean, isn't this not supposed to be an open war?"

"The 'official' Ivalisse coronation will be ssseveral monthsss later, after political adjustmentss, if that'ss what you mean. Right now, we need to eliminate doubt of the alliansse from within.

Marche nodded, finally understanding. Hearing a familiar voice, his head snapped back to Montblanc. The torches on the golden walls flickered.

"I, Montblanc, kupo, Chief warlock of the seventeen mages, representative of the moogles, say one thing and one thing only."

Marche frowned in disbelief. The bubbly tone of the moogle was gone; a hard, army-general-like tone replaced it.

"Have hope, have strength, have faith, and most of all….

"Believe in yourself. You will become the very strength to end this war, kupo."

Once again, cheers arose from the soldiers. Marche's attention was brought to the representative nu-mou as he shuffled to the front of the stage, carrying a velvet box. As the Alliance hushed down, Sololetho spoke.

"This shall bring surprise and confusion; but it is for the good of Ivalice. The coronation of Prince Mewt Randell, to Emperor of the descendant of Kiltia, begins now."

Murmurs echoed through the ornate halls. Pierre sighed from upstage, and Devange patted him on the back. Sololetho, the nu-mou, motioned Mewt to come towards the front. He did so, and faced the nu-mou, showing his side to his audience. Sololetho looked at him in the eye.

"Do you, Mewt Randell, sole heir to the throne and monarch of Ivalice, swear to protect her, rule her justly, and aid her in times of need?"

This was it. The decision of his life. The only way to save Ivalice, yet it would affect him forever. Mewt glanced towards the very person who taught him to face his problems. Marche only grinned, willing to follow his best pal's decision. Mewt looked back to the nu-mou; with a new look in his eyes.

"I swear."

"Then Ivalice hereby bestow you the name Raithwall, and crown you Emperor of Ivalice."

Sololetho opened the box, and gently lifted the shining object in it. He took it in two hands as a servant nu-mou took the box away. Sololetho gingerly placed the golden crown on Mewt's head, making the coronation official. He stood up and bowed. They both stepped away from the center of the stage. Gaa'seth nudged and unaware Marche to the front, very suddenly. The Bangaa looked him in the eye, just like Sololetho in Mewt's coronation. Marche, knowing nothing of what to do, kneeled on one knee. Gaa'seth unsheathed a magnificent sword, causing Marche to gulp.

"Do you, Marche Radujiu, sswear to uphold jusstice, fight for the jusst or weak, and be chivalrous to all?"

Marche eased.

"I swear, in the honor of the holy knight."

Gaa'seth lightly touched Marche's forehead with the tip of the blade. The heavenly sword was so sharp that it caused a drop of Marche's blood to trickle down its blade. The alliance gasped as Marche's eyes widened. The sword glowed, emanating a golden light, as the drop of blood disappeared into it. It was as if the blade acknowledged Marche's worthiness. Gaa'seth smiled.

"Then Ivalisse dubss you ass SSir Iphion and bestow you Excalibur, Holy blade of divinity. Take it and rise ass the vassal of Ivalisse."

Marche stood and took the Excalibur. A divine voice, soft and mysterious, yet emanating with authority whispered to him as he did so.

[_Wield__ me with cause, __worthy__ one_.

Excalibur shined more brilliantly as ever as he gripped it by the handle, marveling at its balance. The alliance cheered at the sight of the Golden knight, ready to save Ivalice.

------------------------------------------------------

Marche looked at the gleaming sapphire armor, the Maximillian, lying on his bed. It was given to him after Ritz was blessed by Lente, Doned was dubbed by Montblanc, and Cid renamed Judge master. Marche was to Keep vigil over it, as part of the knighting. He ran his fingers over the inscription on the collar.

_[The Last Knight_

No one was truly chivalrous anymore.

The room he was in was huge. A large, royal bed sat in the corner, while a small table and a pair of chairs stood to the left of it. A cabinet and wardrobe stood together on the other side of the wall. A narrow hallway blocked the door from view, to stop people from peeking in without lords noticing. Fine coats, cloaks, jewellery and shirts were gathered in the wardrobe, and ornament, weapons lined the inside of the cabinets. A plant rested beside a chair.

Marche sat in that unfamiliar chair. The style was different from the chairs he was familiar with, those of when he was last here. Then, most chairs were wooden. This chair was covered with leather, and stuffed with no arms.

It had been Fifteen years. One-Five. In The three years that they, Mewt, Ritz and Marche, were gone, fifteen years had passed here. Lente explained that because Ivalice was so much younger than his world, the spirituality was more fluid or flexible, causing time to go faster. Marche sighed. It was going to be a long night.

The door creaked as it opened and closed. Marche gripped his Excalibur.

"It's me, Ritz."

Marche let go of the handle, easing at the soft voice of his friend. He smiled as Ritz sat in front of him. The plant in the corner swayed silently as Ritz brushed against it. She frowned.

"So much has changed, Marche."

"I know."

"It's disturbing."

"?"

"I can't sleep."

Marche sighed. He and Mewt found out that Ritz, the independent and strong Ritz, couldn't sleep in unfamiliar places. At least not alone, she couldn't. The three had to sleep in the same room on sleepovers.

"And you can't even see a trace of Shara……"

Ritz nodded. Marche sighed again. Mewt wasn't supposed to be disturbed in the throne room as part of the coronation, and Ritz hated viera maids. Marche stood up, seeing no other option. Moonlight shone brilliantly into the room.

Marche cleared his armor away, placing it on the top of the cabinet. Ritz gave him a curious look.

"You can sleep here."

Ritz crawled onto the bed and settled under the red-and-gold sheets.

"You have to promise to stay."

"Don't worry; I have to watch my Maximillian."

Ritz Frowned. "Until when?

"'Till it does a backflip."

They both laughed. Ritz pulled a pillow from her left side and hugged it.

"Ivalice was so perfect back then… What could have gone wrong?"

Marche sighed. "Maybe because it wasn't a dream anymore, because it became reality, the same harsh rules began to apply."

It was Ritz's turn to sigh. "You _had_ to turn it into reality, didn't you?"

They both chuckled once more. But they were both thinking the same thing, the same, cursed thing.

"Marche?"

"Yes?"

"Will….. Will it ever be the same again?"

Marche tried to be as truthful as he could. He could feel those green eyes on him, even in the darkness. Will it ever be the same….. So many things blocked this world from the false paradise they had. Marche tried to be honest as he could, and prevent himself from giving the answer he knew Ritz dreaded. Finding that impossible, he looked back into her green eyes and replied.

"I don't think so, Ritz. Never again."

Marche could see the outline of His friend bury her face into the pillow. Sadness pierced his face. He reached and patted her on the shoulder.

"Brace yourself Ritz. I think we're going to be involved in a hell of a storm."

_He c__ould feel her shaking with sobs, crying her heart out. And he could do nothing for her, but only to hope._

---------------------------------------------

**I****'****m sorry I made The Maximillian ****blue;**** I just couldn****'****t imagine Marche in red armor.**

**S****o, that****'****s the end of another chapter.**

**Please ****R&R,**** and I****'****ll see you around!!**


	6. The Swaying Tree

Letho: Sorry, guys. There was a reason this was so late….

?? : Hiya‼ I'm the new co-author‼ …. Letho, why am I ?? ?

Letho: cause you don't have a nickname. Ladies and Gents, I present to you….. my older brother.

Brother: My nickname is…… my penname‼

Letho: okay……. Dia2x6.

Dia2x6: is that too hard to write?

Letho: Yes,

Dia2x6: good, 'cause I don't care.

Letho: sigh………… let's just start.

Dia2x6: Roll camera, Chapter 5, take one! A marker!

Letho: sigh…….. Beebeep.

Marche slowly ate his gedegg soup, thinking. The alliance agreed until Ezel was found or rescued or found, Marche, Ritz and Doned were to resume clan activity. They decided to hide Mewt and Cid too, until the time was right. Until then, everyone was supposed to spread rumors about the prophecy coming true, and find as much information about Ezel as possible. The fact that Ivalice faced a whole organization of being who wanted to change her for the bad was frightening.

Also, there was Montblanc. How was he supposed to approach him?

Him trail of thoughts were snapped by a hand tapping his shoulder. Marche turned towards the tapper, a bit surprised. Doned was standing there, smiling.

"What's up?"

"You're running out of clan members."

Marche sighed. Doned was right. Most of his clan died or went away, seeking to join the terrorists or become bandits. Only some of the original members remained.

"Right… Why is that something for you to….?"

"I've recruited some from the alliance."

Doned stepped aside, revealing a mixture of soldiers from all five races. Marche's eyes widened in surprise, but Doned wasn't done yet. He shoved a stack of applications under Marche's nose. He stared. Doned looked back, looking expectant. Marche just sat there, a bit dazed, until he met Doned's gaze. They both smiled, and Marche picked up the applications.

"Thanks. "

"Question, kupo!" A moogle piped up. Everybody looked. The moogle was young, 14 at most. Marche looked, waiting for the question.

"When will we know if we are accepted, kupo?"

"Um……," Marche hesitated. It _was_ a big pile, after all.

"Tomorrow," Doned said, nodding.

Everybody filed out, as if they saw dismissal in Doned's eyes. Doned was a bit surprised they left, but smiled anyway. Marche was staring in horror at his brother's confident smile. As soon as all the applicants left, Marche started to complain.

"_Tomorrow?_" Marche panicked. "I'm not a god, for ………… goodness' sake, Doned!! I can't finish the applications by tomorrow!!"

"You'll be able to, Marche. They're just equipment and stats." Doned shrugged. "Anyway, you won't be alone."

Marche faced him abruptly. "What do you mean?"

Doned smiled mischievously. "Ritz volunteered to help as soon as she heard you were recruiting."

"Oh." Marche's face relaxed. "Ok."

"Have fun, tiger!" He nudged his brother.

Marche frowned and protested. "We're just friends, Doned, grow up!"

"As much as you would like to be much more……" Doned narrowly dodged Marche's elbow, and danced around as Marche pursued. They didn't hear the footsteps of another person.

"Much more what?"

Marche knocked over a vase in surprise as Doned snickered. Ritz was standing in the doorway, looking confused. She was still wearing her silken top and skirt from yesterday. She was buckling her Femme Fatale to her wyrmskin belt, judging by the position of her hands. Her hair was ruffled, so it seemed like she only woke up a few minutes ago. Marche Set the vase upright and glared at Doned skipped past Ritz, winking at her. She walked towards Marche's table, frowning at the doorway. She glanced back to Marche and asked.

"What was that about?"

"Nothing, just another one of Doned's annoying habits."

"Which is?" Ritz raised an eyebrow.

"Being delusional. You probably don't want to know the details."

"I think I'll trust you on that."

She took a seat. Marche sighed, and followed. The pub was still the way that they remembered. A table, and the pubmaster, separated with a lower level with more chairs by a wooden fence. Overall, it was just a warm impression with all wood and lanterns. Marche untangled his sheathed Excalibur from the arms of the chair. He was wearing the same outfit the seam gave him, only without the golden cape. Without the luxuriousness, the attire looked casual; a fine linen shirt and panther hide pants, with a wyrmskin belt, hanging loosely across his hip. His armour was still on the cabinet, waiting for a bigger event.

"Thanks for helping."

"No prob."

They both picked up pens and started. Silence continued. Only the scribbling of pens could be heard. Every few seconds Ritz and Marche would dump some joke application in the bin next to them. Blank papers, ludicrously high stats, and papers with admiration letters scribbled in the back. Most of the Faces looked familiar, probably seen during the ceremony. During the process, He saw the paper from the moogle who asked a question earlier.

_Tuphont K'Mackley, 13, female, Blue Mage._

"Huh?" Marche stared at the paper.

"What is it?" Ritz looked up, slightly worried.

"No, It's just….. Can a moogle be a blue mage?"

Ritz shrugged. "Another joke. The bin's over there."

Marche stopped and considered it seriously. "But wasn't the Devange person… holding a gun? What if it's possible to be something else?"

"Ancient magic binds some laws from changing. Job precautions are one of them. All the people who did these kinds of things would be in the slammer already. The judges would never let them." Ritz looked down onto her pile again.

"But that's just the problem, right? I mean, most of the judges are corrupted, and the few faithful ones would be too busy, if Lente was telling the truth."

When Marche looked up from Tuphont's application, he was surprised. Ritz was blushing furiously, from being mad or embarrassed. Marche stared, confused. Ritz only turned this color if she forgot something important, or didn't do her homework.

"I saw a lot of that….. They're all in the bin." She hunched over in guilt.

Marche sighed, slightly amused. _Typical Ritz, _He thought, _this must be like homework to her._ He rummaged the bin. Luckily, it was cleaned before they started working, so no disgusting bits of food were found. Salvaging most of the job changers, Marche sat up and started working again. Ritz was still hunched over.

"You don't have to do this, you know. I feel like I'm torturing you."

"I…..have to. I'll go crazy if I don't…….."

"?" Marche stared in horror as Ritz's face grimaced in agony.

"I have to distract myself…….Or else………." Ritz leaned on the table and buried her face into her elbow.

"Ritz… What's wrong?"

"She's captured, Marche….. Shara was captured with Ezel……" Her voice broke, exposing her sobs.

Comprehension washed over Marche. No one was there to hold Ritz together; the only person caused her pain. Marche stood and walked over to her. Kneeling to her side, he hugged her, tugging her away from solitary grief.

"It's okay, Ritz…. There will always be someone there for you."

_She was like a hard, stubborn tree, always strong, upright and dependable. But just like a tree, if she loses her water, she becomes fragile. The changing wind will only knock her from her roots._

"Allan Ga'Tom, Tuphont K'Mackley, Lesley, Cochran Solon, Jin Park. Am I right?" Marche asked, looking at the five clanners in front of him. When they nodded, Marche smiled. "Well, I guess you're our new clanners."

The bangaa whooped, the viera and nu-mou smiled, Tuphont and the hume high-fived each other. They were in the pub, sitting in Marche's usual table. Sunlight came through the windows. Ritz was asleep in his room again, and Marche was getting ready for his first mission since he came back.

"We'll start right away. Your first mission will be to fight some monsters off at Lutia. There's been a zombie breakout, and we need to go stop them before they freeze every passerby. You have……." Marche glanced at his clock. "20 minutes to get ready. Rendezvous point is at the west gate of Cyril."

Everyone scattered. Marche went to retrieve his bag from his room. Knocking on the room of the rest of his clanners, he informed them that he'll be away with a mission. When he walked into the room, he was again, surprised. Ritz was staring at his bag, confused. Her hair was ruffled again, and was still sitting on his bed. She looked up when Marche came in.

"Are you going somewhere?" Her rasping voice revealed her fatigue.

"Yeah, there are some zombies at Lutia, throwing snowballs at people. I'm going with my new crew, testing them a bit." He said this very fast, shoving provisions and equipment into his bag. He brought the dragon eye, and some black thread. Marche brought accessories for the new clanners. Slipping on his own bracers and tying his geriminas boots on, Marche glanced at Ritz, just to see what she was going to do. He stood up, with the bag on his shoulder.

"Can I come with you?"

"oh… Where's your clan?"

"Disbanded." Ritz said this surprisingly calmly.

"Ok. Come on, We're meeting at the West gate."


	7. Engage! and I'll be back

Ritz slipped on her belt and fairy shoes. They raced each other to the west gate, ten minutes early. Laughing, they sat on a rock and waited. After a few minutes, the bangaa appeared, running. He stopped in front of Marche, panting and saluting.

"Allan Ga'Tom, reporting for duty!"

"Calm down, Allan. It's not like military camp, you know."

Allan sat down on the ground, catching his breath, mumbling something about honor and gratefulness. Ritz laughed, and Allan snapped his head towards her. His eyes widening, Allan stood up and bowed. Ritz gestured for him to sit down, and he did so. They waited, and soon enough, Lesley the viera, Cochran the nu-mou, Tuphont, and Jin the hume arrived, All of them equipped with their best stuff.

"Alright, all accounted for, and equipped. To Lutia pass, engage‼"

--

Sorry, but my exams are coming up, and I need to study. I'll be updating really slow. And, I need to get a head start on my next fanfic.

So, see you in about a month, people‼!

Sorry about the short update ……………:(


	8. The Eccentric Loony, His Best Friend

**Chapter 8: The Eccentric Loony, His Best Friend**

Sorry about the delays; I'm having a hard month.

I decided to cut out the fighting scene. I'm bad at those.

Instead, I'm jumping to the end of the battle, where yet another conflict begins.

Quiet on the set, and A marker!

Action!

**Chapter 7**

--**That Idiotic, Eccentric Loony, His Best Friend.** --

Another zombie exploded with light as it faded away. The Excalibur was almost a solid compression of light. Its holy powers were so great, it practically blew undead into wisps of smoke. The team's balance was almost perfect. Cochran's magic abilities were great, and extended to long distances. He was able to watch his back while healing party members. There were three zombies. Tuphont had enough hp to learn some skills from the zombies while the others ganged up on the two. Jin stole a few gil, and Lesley blinded it so that nobody got seriously hurt. Ritz attacked the poor blind guy, triggering its counter ability to make an open space for Marche. Then, boom! The zombie would be gone as Lesley disabled the next one. Tuphont would join in after poisoning and halving the third zombie's hp, and leaving it for Allan. Marche's leadership led to an easy battle, nobody got , though Cochran had a rough time trying to heal a complaining and squirming Jin. They all retired to a cave nearby, the cave that was once favored by Marche.

Allan and Tuphont went to gather some firewood in the dry forest nearby. Lesley and Jin went to hunt a wild panther or chocobo. Cochran was out gathering herbs, so Marche and Ritz remained in the cavern, pitching tents and unrolling sleeping bags. After that, they sat and waited for the others to return, while Marche reflected on today's progress. Jin got hurt while stealing; he needed to work on his range of sight while in action. Lesley almost hit Tuphont while shooting; she needed some accuracy improvement. Cochran was too slow, and Allan was too hasty. Other than that, it looked pretty good. Just as he was beginning to think of what kind of training they would need, Marche realized that this was what he was truly good at. This was what he truly enjoyed. His want to stay here, was it justified because that it was now real?

He shook off those thoughts as he stood up.

"I'm going to check on the others, just to see how they're doing."

"I'm coming!" Ritz got up, slightly panicked. A jolt of sympathy shot through Marche, but he shook it away immediately. _Ritz is going through a hard time, she doesn't need sympathy, she's tough, she can get up on her own_

_._

The two stepped out of the cavern and looked around. It was quiet and empty in the pass. Too quiet and empty. The two warriors drew their weapons, sensing trouble. They inched towards each other in a defensive stance, looking around with wary eyes. It was like the old days, when they sensed Llednar coming, dancing in a deadly waltz of death.

Then it happened.

Marche's elbow lightly brushed Ritz's bare forearm. The cool sensation sent shivers down Marche's arm. Surprised at this alien touch, Marche looked up at Ritz. Her silver hair, flying in the night wind…. Her pale skin forming the image of the moon goddess herself…. Her emerald eyes, shimmering as a beacon for lost wanderers in the silvery night…..The sight sent a stronger, oddly pleasant jolt into Marche's stomach. Never, had anyone's beauty struck Marche like that. The Excalibur went slack to the ground as his hormones finally kicked in at his relatively old age for growth, 18. The cheerful moron had never ever noticed females, none the less, Ritz.

Ritz noticed the glinting golden sword pointed towards the ground, though she didn't see that Marche was staring at him.

"Marche?"

He jumped slightly and went back into defensive position. "Yeah?" He asked, blushing.

"Don't be too anxious. We'll find them in time." She regarded Marche's slack position as worry for his clanmates.

Before Marche could say anything else, A scream sounded through the craggy pass.

"Lesley!!" Ritz exclaimed, as they both faced the direction of the sound. They ran through the trees to their right, where they heard the scream. Marche focused on the downhill path ahead, listening for more signs. Only the swift footsteps of his and Ritz's came to his ears. His Excalibur sliced through the air with him as the trees whooshed pass.

Then, quite abruptly, Ritz's footsteps vanished. Marche struggled to stop himself in the downhill gravel path as he noticed. Gripping a tree, he looked around, seeing nothing and hearing nothing but his heavy breathing and silence.

"Ritz?"

His call stirred no response except the hollow longing of Echo. Marche's heart plummeted to his stomach. His teammates, Ritz……

He was alone.

"Riiitz!!"

His shout was cut off by a blow to the back of his head. Marche fell to the ground and saw the feet of a bangaa shuffling in front of his eyes. A club slammed down into the ground as Marche lost consciousness.

--

She knew how it felt to be alone. She'd been there before. She was warned.

Then why, why did pain slam her in the chest as she woke up in the middle of an empty, cold room?

She tried to sit up. A pain in her right arm as she leaned on it told her something was seriously wrong. Gripping her wrist, she tried to stand up. 'Tried' being the keyword, She stubled and fell face-forward onto the ground. Losing motivation, she just lay there on her stomach. After all, what did she have to stand up for? She had nowhere to walk to, and no one to hide weakness from. She did not even remember her name. she just existed in this cold place, staring at her silver hair pooling around her face. Nothing mattered, even her existence.

How many hours had passed? No windows betrayed the time of the day. She closed her eyes and started searching her mind.

A dark, black wall slammed into existence and stopped her. She tried to pry through it, but with only one result.

"Marche……." She whispered with her hoarse voice. She was only able to awaken one of her memories. Only one anchor.

_Marche Marche Marche Marche…………_

She repeated the name in her head. Who was Marche? She didn't care. Nothing mattered…. Except that name. She had something to exist for. She had someone to walk to. She tried to stand up again, white strands of her hair rising with her. Though with shaky legs, she stood up, triumphant as if it were the first time. Leaving her bad arm by her side, she forced her legs to move forward. She walked through the darkness and finally found a wall. Groping her way around it, she searched for and exit, an opening of some kind. Her hands found a vertical bar, and next to it many more, connected by 3 horizontal Bars. One side of the whole room was made like a cage, for someone to ogle through and pity the one inside.

She tried to push these thoughts aside. There was no way out…. For now. Maybe someone will come and open this tomb, so that she won't have to be alone anymore, so that she could find Marche……

She sat in front of the bars, hugging her knees.

Hours passed. What was that hollow grumbling that seemed to come from her stomach?

What seemed like ages taunted her as they ticked away. She buried her face into her knees. No one will come. These bars were made to give her hope and then brutally rip it away. She would die here, alone.

_Marche Marche Marche Marche Marche Marche Marche Marche Marche Marche…………………_

That name…. who was it?

Why did she dote over it so?

--

"Ugh…."

He rubbed the back of his sore head as he pushed himself off his stomach. The stone ground was rough and cold, perhaps a bit moldy too. Still dazed and confused, He sat cross-legged and looked around. He was in a jail cell. Dim lanterns illuminated the hallway outside the cold bars. A scruffy bunk bed was crammed against the back wall, and a dirty sink was rusting in the opposite corner. A barred window was looming over his head beside the bed. A silvery light told him it was still night.

Marche shook his head and asked himself where he was. Then he remembered, his teammates vanishing with Ritz, dragged away under the moon, and that Bangaa clubbing him on the back of his head…….

"Ritz!!"

Marche stood up and banged against the bars. He heard several voices stirring around the hall. He wasn't the only prisoner.

"Ritz, if you can hear me, please, say something!!"

No answer.

"Tuphont? Lesley? Cochran? Gaa'Tom? Jin? Anyone?"

A few lethargically angry mutters. Nothing else.

"RITZ! TUPHONT!!"

"Keep it down, will you, boy?"

A shuffling sound behind him sent Marche whipping around and grabbing for his empty sheath. He never realized anyone was in the bunk. And though Marche knew the other person could not see his face because he had his back to the light, he tried to hide his scared expression with no avail.

"Wh, who are you?" Marche asked with a slightly trembling voice.

"15 years ago, you would have recognized my name. Now, I'm just a genius out of fashion, to say." The old nu-mou chuckled to himself.

Marche knew that chuckle. No, it couldn't be…. But this was the enemy's stronghold, or something like that. Nothing was impossible. Then it hit him that Marche didn't know where this place was.

"Where are we?" Marche asked, loosening his tense position.

"In the V.I.P. prison cell of the terrorists, of course. But they prefer being called Organization _Justice_. Well, we'll see just how flimsy their justice is, when our plans are launched……"

Marche stared at the old nu-mou. One name crossed his mind. His voice was a bit rough, after fifteen years, but his trademark vanity and cheeriness belonged to no one else.

"The plans to bring back the Prophesied Ones and gain support and hope from all across Ivalice. Yes, the plan has gone through quite smoothly." Marche said, not able to stop from being himself in the presence of his old friend.

The nu-mou was silent for 20 solid seconds. "And who, may I ask, are you, young gentleman?" A hint of his old cheery mockery surfaced a bit in the nu-mou's speech.

Marche imitated the nu-mou's chuckle and said with a parody of his vanity, "I have rather a fancy for gossip," quoting from 15 years ago," But it seems a lot of people like to call me the 'Golden Knight'"

The nu-mou got out of his bed. "Marche, M'boy!! It's been too long!!"

"Good to see you again, Ezel Berbier, you eccentric loony."

--

clang

She saw light seeping through the bars. She realized there was a hallway in front of them. The light revealed almost a new world to her. Slight warmth came from the light. It wasn't just feeble light; it was hope. She stood up immediately and clung to the bars as the light and warmth grew. A warrior bangaa and a gladiator appeared, the warrior handling a cuffed woman roughly by the arm. The woman was wearing a green top and skirt; almost like her clothes. She noticed the woman's silver hair; was she a viera?

"How was she?"

A hume rose from behind a wine barrel. "Seems fine, maybe a tad bit hungry." He said with an exotic accent. "She keeps on saying 'Marche' for the last few hours." She bit her lip. Had she been saying that outloud?

"I'll handle this. You go search up what 'Marche' means." The gladiator dismissed the warrior as he took the woman's elbow. "Jang, I want you to go and get some food. Don't want her dying on us…" The hume followed the Warrior. Then, the gladiator turned to her. "Well, well, Ms. Valiant. I hope our interrogation didn't damage you that much."

Something clicked in her mind. She lost her memory because she was tortured. She glared malevolently at the gladiator, but then was distracted by the woman. The woman was struggling to say something through mythril tape. The woman was staring longingly at her.

"Ah, yes," said the bangaa, noticing the woman's struggle."We thought the blessed warrior would like to talk to her friend after 15 years." He ripped the tape off the woman's mouth.

"You're alive!! Thank goodness, you're alive….." She recognized the woman's voice as a person called Ritz

"It's me, Shara, it's me…… Shara, you're alive……."

--

-

Ooo, big turnover.

I guess that marks the end of my absence. I'll fill in the details of the kidnap in the next chapter.


	9. What Pain Means

Sorry, I went away for a while to learn how to write properly. I back.. I guess.

So here's chapter eight. I'll be uploading a lot more often, I hope.

-----------------------------

Mewt burst through the stone doors, furious. If those annoying servants didn't lock him up and teach him imperial manners, this wouldn't have happened. Who cares about manners when a war is going on and people are dying?!

Lente, the Twins, Xia, Sololetho, Montblanc, Gaa'mont, Cid and Doned were here. Every general at the strategy platform faced him and started the annoyingly long salute, vows of first consultation, blah, blah, blah.

A nerve twitched on Mewt's forehead.

"To hell with formalities. What's the situation?!" He leaned down on the table-platform to analyze the magicked chess pieces moving across it.

Lente spoke. "Lord Radiuju and Lady Malheur have disappeared during a clan mission in Lutia Pass. Signs of struggle have been found."

Devange, the second-in-command, spoke. "Good news is, we found the Enemy's lair. Bad news is, we don't have enough forces left from the last battle to assault it."

"And now we have four people possibly held hostage or dead." Pierre added.

Mewt sighed. Those two, always the ones getting in trouble………

"Then we don't assault the lair. Make up an ambush party to confuse their supplies and rescue the hostages, if alive." Mewt's voice cracked slightly at the 'if.'

"Problem," Devange started," We don't have anyone skilled, strong, healthy or willing enough to go."

"Then I'll go!!!" Mewt burst."People are dying!! What are we waiting for!!?"

"For you to get a grip and stop being a child." Pierre said. Everyone drew in sharp breaths at the insult. Mewt glared.

"Then what do you suggest doing while I grow up?" Mewt hissed, venom in his voice.

"Fortify ourselves. Obviously some information was leaked. Find the spy, and interrogate him or her. Have their plan backfire on them."Pierre stared icily at Mewt. "Of course, it might just be because of the idiocity of _Sir Iphion._ Moronic enough to recruit new members for the clan without checking their history, putting our whole alliance at risk…."

Mewt struggled to control his temper. "And no one is going to agree with me?"

A few mumbles. "I'm sorry, Mewt, But he's right. We can't avenge them if we ourselves are in danger." Cid spoke apologetically.

Mewt kept his head down. "Xia, Devange, Sololetho, get to picking out spies. Dad- Judgemaster, please search through the application files for the new recruits. Everyone is dismissed."

Everyone left except for Mewt and Doned. The younger boy was horrified. Recruiting was his idea. His brother might be in great pain or already dead because of him.

Mewt was convincing himself. That he had to go, even by himself. Tonight.

_____________________________________________

"Blame me if you will, but I do not regret my actions."

Marche and Ezel sat across each other in the moldy cell. Marche looked into the old nu-mou's eyes. They were no longer that of the cocky, cheerful genius, but of an old leader.

"I was on an expedition campaign with Shara, to find a more suitable place to supply the alliance….. When we were ambushed. No one was ready. The ambush party was skilled; they even evaded Shara's reconnaissance……

"But we gathered our wits soon. The alliance fought back bravely, and when we saw we could not win, we made a strategized retreat…. But….

"A young boy was surrounded by troops. I could not leave him there… To die at such a young age. Call me a fool, but the boy had lost everything; I could not bear watch him lose his life.

Shara tried to help me, but we were overwhelmed. She was captured shortly after the boy was sent to safety."

Marche started a little at Ezel's chuckle.

"Ah. I now realize we used all our cards in our escape. And that was the last of all the amber too…. I wonder how the main base is faring?"

Marche remembered the despair etched into the faces of everyone at the alliance. Marche's fist trembled.

"All of them… just for one boy…. You….."

Ezel's smile faded. "I know the consequences of what I have done. But think of it this way, if you were in my place, and if Doned was the one in danger, what would you have done? Is the future and happiness of an orphan not worth saving as much as the future of a man with a wife and children? Would you go as far to say that? Who was I to play god at that moment?"

Marche froze. He vowed that he would do anything for the alliance, but what would it require him to do? What should his ideals be? As Ezel had said, should he abandon those he loved for the greater good? Was it in his right to judge who should live or not?

But look at what Ezel had done. His choices were the cause of the battle that everyone was swept into….

He remembered the tears Ritz had shed. He remembered the sorrow in the eyes of the alliance.

What was right and what was wrong?

"And that boy…"

Marche started a little.

"He looked like you when I first saw you, Marche. A little bit of hope in his eyes, confused at what he'd gotten himself into."

Ezel chuckled and looked at Marche with appraising eyes.

"You've changed muchly, child. No longer a boy, it seems?"

Marche stared and blushed a little at the compliment. It was true; he had changed. His shoulders were broader, and he was taller than most boys his age. While still keeping his teenager-ish look, more mature features had formed on his face. His golden blonde hair was longer; his boyish bangs pushed aside, the back of his hair messy, ponytail gone.

He was no longer the little boy who wanted to go home.

Was it better?

They both started a clinking sound approached their cell. A bangaa yanked the cell doors open and started cuffing Marche with metal cuffs. Marche started to resist, but Ezel shook his head, eyes hard.

Confusion was all Marche felt as he was knocked unconscious again.

-----

Ritz waited calmly as she was pushed forward by enemies, cuffed and blindfolded. As soon as they took it off, they were dead. Someone knocked her to her knees.

_That's the tenth punch I owe them._

The blindfold was pulled off roughly. Ritz flipped herself around, smashing someone's nose with her foot. The human guard stumbled back, groaning and clutching his nose. The rest of the guards cuffed her legs, trying to dodge Ritz's nimble blows.

"Oh, hell! Riggs, you okay?" Another human tended to Riggs's bloody nose, glaring at Ritz. She glared back, wishing with all her heart that looks could kill while she was being chained to the room with long, hanging chains that were primarily used for first-rate criminals in solitary confinement. She was forced into a kneeling position, her arms dangling at head-height. All the guards backed away, save for one Bangaa. A hume brought in a heated coal pot with branding irons resting in the red hot coals. Ritz tensed with dread as she realized why she was here. Torture. Well, it was all for naught, 'cause she wasn't going to open her mouth if they killed her.

The bangaa saw the change in Ritz's expression and cackled. "I'm impresssed by your courage, lady, but we're not looking for your nabbing. No, it'll be one of your friendsss that'll do the nabbing. By the way, m'name'ss Ga'abo. You can choose whether or not to remember it." He jerked an iron out of the cauldron, grinning.

Ritz heard shuffling as another prisoner was being brought into the room. Her eyes widened as she saw who it was. In one sickening moment, her confusion cleared.

Marche, bound and unconscious, was thrust onto the floor. The human guards retreated against the wall, their spears held ready.

"Wake him up." Ga'abo muttered coldly.

Ritz's flinched as she saw Marche slapped with a bucketful of icy water. He shuddered awake, sputtering.

"What-where- Ritz?" Marche bolted upright as he gasped her name. His eyes hardened in horror as he realized what Ga'abo was holding.

"Don't you dare."

Ga'abo smiled. "Ah, but I would."

"First question. What are these rumors about revival of order, a strikeback from the royal alliance, and a Renaissance?"

So that was the kind of rumor the alliance was spreading, thought Marche. His mouth remained shut.

"Wrong answer."

Ritz struggled not to scream as the iron seared against her back through her clothes. Marche struggled against the guards that were holding him in place. He knew Ritz was a hardy warrior, not someone to break easily, but he also knew that she had never been tortured before. The sound and smell of burnt skin sickened him. The guards behind him forced Marche to watch Ritz's tortured expression.

Ritz regretted showing any signs of pain as Ga'abo pulled the iron away. She knew Marche was a strong fighter, but his heart was often louder than his logic. He cared too much for his friends. He would break if she let out even one scream. Ritz braced herself.

"Next question." The bangaa shoved the iron back into the cauldron and pulled a 'fresh' one out. "They must have suffered from the battle of Benervia. How could they show no signs of it? And what are with the careless recruiting and defenses? What's their plan?"

Marche opened his mouth hesitantly, but shut it as Ritz shook her head furiously. He tried to think of a convincing lie that was somewhat close to the truth and realized that he actually didn't know the real answer.

Ga'abo's mouth twisted in contempt. He shoved the iron against Ritz's back once again.

It was worse this time. Now that she knew what the pain was like, and was expecting the burning agony, it defied her short memory of the pain and burned far worse than before. Ritz forced herself to look downwards, her hair covering her expression from Marche's view.

But it did not make it any better for Marche.

"Stop!" He cried, struggling forward against the guards behind him, "Stop, please, We don't know! They never told us anything!"

Ritz heard his will weaken in his cracked voice. _No_, she thought, _we have to get through this!_

Ga'abo shoved the iron back into the coal cauldron. "Do you think it makes ssensse for sssomeone to work and fight for an unknown cause? A pathetic liar, thisss one."

Ritz closed her eyes as the burning pain hit her again. Marche was on the verge of tears, powerless to stop her agony. As the pain faded, she thought about the truth in Marche's words and realized that he was right; they had been fighting without knowing what they were fighting for.

Why had they come here?

An hour more of torture reduced Marche to sobbing, and Ritz was unconscious. _They know what they're doing_, Marche thought, _if I knew anything it'd out by now_. It was so much harder to watch someone you love being tortured than feeling the pain yourself. In a horrified and grim way, he acknowledged this method's efficiency.

"They know nothing. Thisss was all for naught. Take them away." Ga'abo walked out, disgusted. Marche had to watch them drag Ritz out of the room as if she were nothing but a piece of flesh. The guards forced him up and shoved him all the way to his cell. They had no need to knock him unconscious this time; he was too weak to even think about resisting. The guards threw Marche into the cell and walked away.

Ezel was shocked by this, but knew better than to bother the boy with his questions. Instead, he helped the boy drag himself to the bunk and left him be.

Marche cried. It had been a long time since he had ever shed a tear. He was powerless to stop anything, not even his own tears. Powerless.

He had to be stronger. He had to protect everyone. Never again will he see his loved ones be tortured like this. He now knew why he was here, what he had been fighting for. The alliance didn't matter anymore. These people meant to hurt his friends, and he wasn't going to allow that.

Marche's tears topped. His conscience faded away as the inner power arose.

In that moment, in a different place, the wielder of the fey blade opened his red eyes.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------


	10. I Don't Want to Fight Anymore

Shara fought back her tears as she tried to wake Ritz up. Nearly all her memories were back, and she knew in her bones that Ritz had to survive. She knew what had been done to Ritz and Marche; he was probably broken into pieces by now. And Ritz; Shara's magic would prevent the burns from getting infected, but what would those scars do to her life? This wasn't her world to save; yet she suffered more than an ordinary soldier would have. It was never fair.

"Ritz? Wake up. You have to wake up! You have to live, you have to get back to your world! I swore I'd get you back alive. Don't make me break my oath, Ritz Malheur!"

Ritz opened her eyes and looked at Shara, not registering what she was seeing. Then, she closed her eyes and fell back into her mind. Her sanctuary of memories welcomed her.

"_Faster, Ritz!!"_

_Mewt ran through the snow, Marche on his back. His irregular breathing worried us to no end. The wind raged, as if trying to bury us three in snow._

"_Coming! Just get Marche inside!"_

_I hobbled through the knee-deep snow, trying to keep up with Mewt. Mewt hesitated, even as I waved him ahead. He didn't want to lose both of us in the storm, it seemed. It was so Mewt.. When I finally got to the front door, I quickly unlocked it and ushered Mewt inside. I closed the door with some difficulty as Mewt set Marche down on the sofa. I ran to the kitchen to get a cloth and some water to cool his fever. Mewt wrapped him in blankets and put a pillow under his head. _

_Marche coughed and groaned. I came back with the water, my face creased with worry. Mewt scooted over as I set the bowl down next to the sofa. I dipped the cloth in the water, squeezed it and dabbed Marche's face with it. His expression calmed a bit. Mewt watched in silence._

"_We should call our parents." He mumbled._

"_Yeah," I said, my voice softer than Mewt's._

_He shuffled to the phone, feeling useless. "I can use the phone, right?"_

_He heard my weak approval. He dialed his own number. I could hear the faint ringing as the phone tried to connect._

"_..Hello?"_

"_Dad?"_

"_Mewt! Where are you?!"_

"_Calm down, Dad. I'm okay. I'm at Ritz's house right now. We got caught in the storm. I'll have to stay the night here. Is that okay with you?"_

_A pause. "Who else is there?"_

"_Just Ritz, me and Marche."_

_I called from the living room. Mewt turned around, concerned._

"_No parents?"_

"_No, her parents aren't here right now. Listen, Dad, Marche's got a bad fever, and Ritz needs help right now. I'll call you back later, probably in the morning, okay?"_

"……_Okay. Stay safe."_

"_Bye, Dad."_

_He hung up and ran to the living room. _

"_What is it?" _

_I had lit the fire up, and blankets were spread out on the floor next to the fire place. _

"_Can you move Marche? It's getting really cold, and I don't think the blankets we have are enough."_

"'_Kay."_

_With some difficulty, Mewt picked Marche up and put him down on the floor. I excused myself to call Marche's parents. Mewt set the wet cloth on Marche's forehead. _

_What were we going to do?_

_I tapped the table impatiently._

"…_Hello?"_

"_Is this the Radiuju residence?"_

"… _Ritz?"_

"_Doned!"_

"_Ritz! Where's Marche?"_

"_He's in the living room with Mewt. Hey, can you tell your mom that we won't be able to get out in the storm, and that he's staying here for tonight? Just so she doesn't worry."_

"_Sure. Hey, you sound worried. What's going on, other than the storm?"_

_Ah, Doned. Innocently insightful as ever._

"_Marche…. He's got a bad fever right now. He's burning up real bad, and we don't know what to do…………"_

_Silence from the other end. I tried not to imagine what his expression would be like. I heard Mrs. Radiuju call from the other end. Doned shouted something back, the phone probably muffled by his hand._

"_Okay, just keep him warm and he'll be okay in the morning. Don't give him medicine, okay? He's allergic to something in cold medicines. Give him something warm to eat in the morning, and…" A pause. "Stay with him. He gets better if someone's there."_

"_Okay. Thanks. Tell your mom not to worry, okay? We'll do our best."_

"_Alright. And Ritz?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_If….. if Marche gets worse, and you can't get to emergency, just talk to him. It'll be better."_

_I said nothing. How would that help him? I was useless._

"_You might think it's pointless, but trust me, it'll work. You mean more to him than you think."_

"_Okay. Thanks again. I need to call my parents and ask about some things, so I'll talk to you later."_

"_Alright. Stay safe-"_

_The phone died. Great. What'll mom and dad think when they walk in and find two random boys in the living room?_

_Crap. I haven't introduced my best friends to my parents. Great, just perfect._

_My sarcasm died as I thought of Marche again. Putting the receiver down, I walked back to the living room. As I realized I was seriously depressed for the first time in my life, I noticed the electricity had gone out with the phone lines._

_Perfect._

_Maybe my sarcasm didn't die. Not entirely. Never entirely. Who was going to kick Marche back on his feet when he wakes up?_

_I sighed and retreated back to the living room. Mewt was sprawled on the couch, exhausted. He would be; Marche wasn't exactly light as a feather. I sat next to Marche, brushing his face with the wet cloth. I once heard on the television that people die from seasonal flu every year. What if Marche died? Would I be able to face Doned again? Would Mewt and I be able to live, weighed down by guilt? _

_What would I do if I could never see him smile again?_

"_Ritz?" Mewt said, worry and fear coloring his voice. "Are you okay?"_

_I realized I was crying. I wiped away the tears hastily, and worked up a weak smile. _

"_Yeah, just… worried."_

"_Don't be. Marche's strong, he'll get through this."_

"_Yeah….." I always wondered how Mewt could always be so sure. Was it a guy thing? Completely trusting in each other's abilities? What if they blew it?_

_They would forgive each other. Guys are so simple that girls could never understand. Maybe I do because I don't try to look past what's right in front of me._

"_You know…" Mewt started, sitting next to me, "I always knew somehow that Marche would die of either old age or because of us."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_You know how he'll smash into anything in his way. But he's so vulnerable when it comes to us. Or Doned, and his mother, for that matter. He'll do anything to protect us, and he'll trust us with his life. It's sort of an ironic joke between us. The people he loves will be his ultimate downfall, if not old age. But he'll never go down because of a little fever."_

_I was glad Mewt was trying to make me feel better, but I hoped he was wrong. Marche shouldn't trust in me so completely. I wasn't able to guarantee that I wouldn't screw up when he needed me the most._

"_Let's get some sleep. His fever's cooled down; he should be fine in the morning."_

"_Yeah."_

_I put the fire out as Mewt laid out mats beside Marche. As soon as the fire was out, it was total darkness. I heard Mewt plop down on a mat. I just felt my way to the nearest mat and lied down. I could hear Marche breathing next to me. It sounded regular. I sighed in relief. I pulled the nearest blanket over myself and attempted to fall asleep._

_And that's where I call myself and idiot. Who could fall asleep after Mewt does? Honestly, I should buy him noseplugs or something. Something to have him shut the goddamn hell up when he's sleeping. Or get some congestion mints and shove it in that trumpet of his. He was my friend, but there were limits to my patience with his snores._

_My eyes adjusted to the dark in the absence of sleep. I saw the silhouette of Marche, his chest rising and falling. _

_For whatever reason, I scooted over and kissed him on the forehead._

"_Don't make me kick you awake in the morning."_

Ritz wondered why that particular memory surfaced in times like this. Maybe it was because it was the day she started being afraid of Marche's complete trust in her. Maybe it was because it was the day she fell in love with Marche.

Maybe it was because it was the day she wanted nothing to do with fighting anymore.

---------

Ezel jumped as he heard the clatter of armor as the guards down the hall fell. Had the Alliance launched an attack? But their manpower should have been nearly depleted by the battle at Bernervia.

"Fools!" He muttered under his breath, "Nothing is worth sacrificing soldiers!"

A dark figure stood in front of the prison bars, his red eyes appraising Ezel. Ezel looked at the black ninja garbs and stiffened. This ninja wasn't a part of the Alliance. He called forth his magic, waiting for the ninja to make a move.

In one swift stroke of his blade, the ninja sliced the prison door in half. Ezel tensed even more. He had enemies outside the clan of his prisoners. It was only by sheer chance that he had avoided assassination attempts. Some were crazy enough to send assassins during midday. Ezel wouldn't be surprised if one sent a killer when he was imprisoned. This just may be his last stand.


	11. They're waiting

_Ezel jumped as he heard the clatter of armor as the guards down the hall fell. Had the Alliance launched an attack? But their manpower should have been nearly depleted by the battle at Bernervia._

"_Fools!" He muttered under his breath, "Nothing is worth sacrificing soldiers!"_

_A dark figure stood in front of the prison bars, his red eyes appraising Ezel. Ezel looked at the black ninja garbs and stiffened. This ninja wasn't a part of the Alliance. He called forth his magic, waiting for the ninja to make a move._

_In one swift stroke of his blade, the ninja sliced the prison door in half. Ezel tensed even more. He had enemies outside the clan of his prisoners. It was only by sheer chance that he had avoided assassination attempts. This just may be his last stand._

-----------------------------

The ninja, instead of making an attempt on Ezel's life, walked in and said in a cold voice, "Go. Your friends are waiting outside."

"The boy-" Ezel started.

"I will take care of his excellency."

Ezel took his word and headed towards the exit. He was not a fool to not trust the man's words; he would be dead by now if that ninja had any harmful intentions.

The ninja looked at the bunk and frowned.

It was empty.

-----------------

"What were you thinking, running out here all alone? Did you not hear me tell you to grow up?"

Mewt refused to look at Pierre as he poured profanities at him, chastising him as if Mewt were a kid. The soldiers Pierre had brought with him to stop and protect Mewt shifted uncomfortably at their leader's lack of courtesy to the emperor. Mewt had been stopped at a clearing near the base of the enemy. Instead of listening to Pierre, he was devising a plan to slip away. The decision itself was very simple to make; he lived by his duty to himself and the world as a human and Emperor; not by the rules and policies of politics and war.

The deafening sound of a warhorn interrupted Pierre's rant. Every single soldier tensed. Had they been discovered?

Pierre shouted out orders and organized the soldiers into a defensive position, with Mewt at the center of the formation. They waited, but nothing happened. Mewt and Pierre looked at each other, realization striking them at the same time.

"They are the ones being attacked."

Pierre shouted out to the soldiers to follow him. Mewt Dashed ahead, stopping just behind a boulder that could cover them and allow them to see what was going on at the base. An abandoned castle had flags of the enemy flying from their towers. The sound of swords and gun echoed from within, but the stone walls betrayed nothing of what was going on inside.

"What in the world?"

Pierre and his soldiers had caught up, crouching behind the boulder beside Mewt. Mewt could tell a thousand tactics and formations were going through Pierre's mind as they watched the castle, trying to figure out what to do.

"Wait," Mewt said, noticing a short figure running towards them from the castle, "is that-"

"Ezel." Pierre breathed. "He's alive."

Pierre dashed out towards Ezel. "Ezel, you're alive!"

The nu-mou waved his relief away, panting. "No time. There is a ninja inside, he needs assistance-"

Pierre helped the old genius back to his soldiers. "A ninja? What-"

"I said there was no time to talk! There is a ninja inside, clad in black, who is freeing us and helping us escape. You heard the warhorn, he cannot possibly take on the entire clan. You must help-"

But Pierre and his soldiers were already heading towards the castle. Mewt had Ezel sit down and checked to see if he had any wounds.

"I am fine, your majesty, it is the ones who escape that you must look after."

"Are they alive?"

"I do not know of Shara, but Marche is fine."

"What about Ritz?"

Ezel said nothing. If Ritz was the girl that they tortured in front of Marche, then…

"You should not set your hopes to high."

The battle of Abraham Castle began.

-------------

Ritz realized that she was conscious again. She could hear Shara shuffling, beside her, she could feel the cold floor… but why couldn't she move? It was as if the signals in her body became one way, receiving signals but being unable to send out any. Is this what it was like to be comatose?

Ritz heard Shara stiffen as something metallic clanged against the floor. Shara stood protectively over Ritz as footsteps came near.

"Can you walk?"

A cold voice asked. Shara said nothing.

Suddenly, Ritz felt herself being lifted up by strong hands and slung over a shoulder like a bag of flour. Alarmed, she redoubled her efforts to regain mobility.

"What do you intend to do?" Shara asked, cautious and as alarmed as Ritz.

"I intend to deliver you to your friends waiting outside."

The man walked towards the exit. Pain ripped through Ritz's back as his movement stretched her burns. Shara realized that Ritz's back was starting to bleed and cried out in alarm.

"Her scars!"

The man stopped. Ritz felt herself being cautiously removed from the shoulder and held with two arms, finally being treated as a person. It felt safe and warm, despite the fact that this man was probably neither ally nor enemy. They started moving again, Ritz's resentment powering her attempts to gain control of her body. Finally, after about five minutes of walking, she could lift her eyelids. They were walking swiftly through halls of stone, with red carpets on the floor. Was it a castle? Torches on the wall burned.

She looked up at their 'savior,' and saw a ninja's face, Black hair poking out slightly on his forehead. He looked down, and Ritz inhaled sharply. Red eyes, cold and emotionless, looked into hers, and she felt that those eyes weren't natural; they were of blood and darkness.

"She's awake."

"Ritz! Ritz, are you okay?"

"Yeah." She managed to croak.

Shara would have asked more, but soldiers stopped their path, determined to kill them.

"We've got the okay to kill them on site. Attack!"

Shara and Ritz panicked. The man didn't seem to have any plans to put Ritz down and draw his sword; and neither Ritz nor Shara were fit for a fight.

"Do something!" Ritz hissed.

A flicker of amusement passed through his eyes.

"Zodiark," Was all he said. Ritz could feel strange power welling up. His voice resonated with inhuman power as he said it again.

"_Zodiark!" _

Black light gathered in front of the man, and six wings burst from the black orb. The charging soldiers halted, confused and afraid. The orb slowly formed into something serpentine, and then-

"Aauugh!!!"

It charged at the soldiers, passing through them as they fell to the floor, lifeless. Screams echoed from the halls, all the soldiers in the castle screaming in fear.

By the time the screams subsided, desperate shouts of retreat were cried out. The clan abandoned their castle.

"I did not think that would be necessary. An unfortunate miscalculation."

Ritz shivered in fear. Who was this man? What did he mean to do, killing without regret? Why was he helping them? And where the hell did his inhuman power come from?

Ritz didn't register anything until bright light pierced her eyes.

They were outside.

A blade came up to the man's neck.

"Pierre!"

Shara was greeted by a murmur of relief among the soldiers, but Ritz couldn't see anything but the blade at the man's neck. The Zanmato was held there, unwavering. The cold expressions of Pierre and the man were almost identical; except that Ritz could see a bit of despair in the man's eyes; Pierre's were partly filled with fear.

"Who are you to dare summon Zodiark to do your bidding? Who are you to have the power to summon the Keeper of Precepts?!"

The man offered Ritz out, almost as if he were not aware of the blade at his neck. "Would you rather ask idle questions than take your friend home? She has severe injuries."

Pierre, hesitated, and then sheathed his sword. "My apologies, lady. It seems we are in debt."

He was about to take Ritz when Mewt and Ezel came running. "Ritz!" Mewt ran up and took Ritz in his arms, relieved to no end. "You're okay!"

"Urgh, Mewt, what did I say about bear hugs??!!" Ritz choked, using what mobility she had to try and free herself.

Mewt laughed and freed her. He took her back to where they were treating the former captives, and put her down on a mat. Ritz looked back to where the man was, and saw Ezel shouting at him. She strained to hear them as Mewt wiped his tears of relief away, but it was too far.

-----

"What have you done with the boy!!!?"

"Ezel, calm down!"

Pierre was holding the old nu-mou back by the shoulder. The black-clad man just stood there, impassive.

"His excellency was not there when I was to save him."

"What do you mean, not there? He was on the bunk when I left!!"

The man sighed. "It seems I must take my leave."

"Not until-"

"My duty," he said, cutting Ezel off with a powerful tone of authority, "is to protect where the paladin cannot. I have fulfilled this duty, and thus, I will take my leave."

Ezel was about to say something more when the ninja vanished. Pierre and the soldiers just stared. Was he truly human?

Tuphont gazed at the spot where the ninja vanished, his thoughts swimming. His father had told him of a legend that was lost in time, a story passed down his family for generations. It was a forgotten quest of the Hero Gaol. A quest to quell his inner demon. Could it be…..?

He turned back to Cochran and thanked him for the healing spell. Allan, Lesley, and Jin were sitting there gloomily, sad that they had lost their clan leader on their first mission.

Tuphont stood up, sighing. There was more to this string of events than he had originally thought.

"Where's… Marche?"

Ritz asked, realizing that the ninja had gone, and Marche was not there.

Tuphont looked at her sadly.

"No……"

It couldn't be. Never. How could Marche…

But what had Mewt said? The people he loved would be his ultimate downfall.

Whatever caused Marche to die…..

It would have been Ritz's fault.

"Marche!!!!!!"

----------------------------

_Awaken, worthy one._

Who is that?

_You must awaken._

Where am I? It's so dark. I can't see anything.

_Why do you hesitate?_

What? Who are you? Where am I? What have you done?

_Why do you hesitate to use your power in times of need?_

Am I dead? What happened to Ritz? Mewt, Ezel?

_Do not mock me by ignoring our pact, worthy one._

What…… pact?

_You agreed to wield me and feed me the blood of evildoers, and in return I would grant you absolute power. Have you forgotten?_

What… When did I…..

_It seems I must grant you the power before you are to give me the blood of evil._

What?

_It was as if a massive boulder had smashed into Marche; suddenly, there was light, and he could see. He was floating in a void of darkness, and the boulder that had smashed into him was a glyph; it burned with power, and Marche screamed in pain. The glyph was burning into his flesh, marking him, digging itself into his soul._

Stop!

_Something was wrong. The power shouldn't try to kill him. Two voices that he had never heard spoke over his screams, inside his head._

_Why must you go to such lengths, Ultima?_

_I could ask the same of you, brother._

_He was dying, falling into oblivion. Then, a hand reached out to him._

**Take my hand!**

Who are you?

**Just take it! You mustn't let the power consume you!**

I can't… It hurts!!

**She's waiting for you! Everyone is!!!**

Who?

_Marche struggled against the pain_.

Marche!!!!

_It was Ritz's voice. She was waiting for him. He had to go._

_In one burst of the strength he had left, he grabbed the hand and let himself be pulled out._

--------

He opened his eyes, panting. It was raining. He was lying in wet grass, bewildered by what had happened. Was it a dream?

He sat up and realized that it was Aisenfield. He also saw that his shirt was ripped apart. He looked down and froze.

The glyph was glowing brightly on his torso. Marche choked on a gasp. His hand hovered over the glyph, disbelief rendering him immobile. Then, he touched it.

It exploded into light, blinding Marche. He threw an arm over his eyes and tensed for the pain, but none hit him. When he opened his eyes again, the glyph was gone and it was just him in the field, alone. He was sitting on a hill and it was raining raindrops as pure as diamonds.

He stood up, still bewildered and fearful.

It was time to go, glyph or not.

They were waiting for him.


End file.
